Inside Outt

figure out how two people this stupid could also draw breath. “Well, sure, absolutely, just ask anything you want, I’ll tell you whatever I know.”
    Paula said, “We were hoping if we ask nicely, Mr. Taibbi.”
    Taibbi spit a wad of tobacco juice into a cup. “The way you asked my bouncer?”
    Either Taibbi was just coming to the logical conclusion, or he’d overheard the confrontation. Either way, it didn’t matter. Ben said, “He started it.”
    Paula looked at him disgustedly, like he was the world’s biggest child. Ben looked back and shrugged.
    Taibbi said, “He’s supposed to start it. He’s the bouncer.”
    Paula was still looking at him, and Ben could almost see fumes coming out of her ears. He thought,
all right, all right.
    He glanced at Taibbi. “Well… I regret the misunderstanding.”
    Taibbi smiled. “No, you don’t regret it. But you will.”
    Ben was about to kick the desk over and straighten the clown out, but Paula said, “We really do apologize for what happened. My name is Special Agent Paula Lanier, FBI. We’re investigating a homicide, and have reason to believe you may be a material witness.”
    Ben saw Taibbi’s pupils dilate from a little adrenaline dump. Either the guy had reason to be generally antsy about the FBI, or he was specifically nervous about what Paula had asked him. Or both.
    Taibbi looked at Paula, then Ben, then back. He squirted tobacco juice into his cup. “Show me your credentials.”
    Paula reached into her purse, pulled out her ID, and put it on Taibbi’s desk. He put his feet down, picked it up, squinted at it wordlessly, then handed it back. He looked at Ben. “And you?” he said.
    Ben would have preferred to refuse, but he could tell from Taibbi’s demeanor that if the guy got the idea he was faced with other than legitimate law enforcement, he wasn’t going to tell them shit. He hadn’t said anything when examining Paula’s ID. It was a good bet that he’d read and return Ben’s silently, as well.
    Ben handed him the Dan Froomkin ID. Paula glanced at it as it changed hands. Whatever she saw, she said nothing. The main thing now was that Taibbi feel a little cooperation would be in his interest.
    The bet paid off. Taibbi looked, squinted, and handed it back. Ben slipped the ID into his pocket and said, “Now, what were you saying, about how we might regret something?”
    There were footsteps behind them. Ben spun, ready to draw down. It was Dreadlocks, still somewhat hunched over, and two other guys in black tee shirts.
    “It’s fine, Bobby,” Taibbi said. “We’re fine. All of you, go on back out to the bar.”
    Dreadlocks Bobby gave Ben what he must have thought was a menacing look and turned to go.
    Ben said,
“Hnnnnunnnh.”
    Dreadlock’s face reddened. “Motherfucker,” he growled.
    “Thanks, Bobby,” Taibbi said. “We’ll talk later.”
    Dreadlocks limped out, the other two security guys just behind him. Taibbi said, “Okay, apology accepted. Now, what’s this about a murder?”
    Ben was about to respond, but Paula beat him to it. “Our acquaintance, Mr. McGlade, explained to us how he retained you to follow the subject of an investigation of his, one Daniel Larison, whom Mr. McGlade had traced to San Jose. Mr. McGlade informs us that Mr. Larison murdered an associate of yours. We’d like to learn more about that.”
    Taibbi was silent for a long moment. He drummed his fingers along the desk. Ben watched his hands.
    He looked at Ben, then back to Paula. “Mr. McGlade told you that, did he?”
    Paula nodded. “Yes, he did.”
    Taibbi squirted a brown stream into his cup. “Well, McGlade is a grade-A scumbag. If I had time, I’d get on a plane, fly out to Orlando, and personally put a boot straight up his ass.”
    “I can’t say we found his company particularly pleasant, either,” Paula said. “Now, I’d be very grateful for anything you could tell us about Larison. Our investigation doesn’t otherwise concern you, your bar, or any of your affairs. Even if we were to see something untoward here, narcotics, for example, or any other illicit thing, we’d be too focused on the information you give us to care, or even to remember.”
    Taibbi leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankles on the desk again. “Like you guys have any jurisdiction here in Jacó anyway. Please.”
    Paula smiled, and Ben wondered if Taibbi, who seemed to have good instincts, would recognize just how dangerous her smile could be.